From childbirth, babies are wired to seek connection from us and do so through 'bids for connection'. As babies they do this through smiling, reaching out, crying, following us with their eyes, and babbling. As children grow, the means by which they seek connection from us changes yet essentially the internal need is still the same. Our children long to be seen and connected to.

Whilst as a therapist I know this intellectually, based on practice experience and extensive attachment research, the difficulty I have found is that sometimes these bids for connection can be lost in the every day craziness of living or perhaps more challengingly, may look like another type of behaviour altogether.

This was powerfully evident when recently my children were on school holidays. School holidays are a wonderful opportunity to share more time together and yet are often tiring for the very same reason! Inevitably, I find myself presented with moments where I feel challenged to rethink the way I connect with my children.

Each holiday we tend to have one day when we go shopping to get much needed clothes and various other bits and pieces. My son, who doesn't like shopping at the best of times, was dragging his feet and being moody and sullen. He avoided eye contact and it literally felt like I was dragging him through quicksand as I encouraged him to get ready. A major meltdown was hovering threateningly and my patience levels were wearing thinner by the minute. My initial reaction was to get cranky and hurry him up and minimise his moodiness. Yet, as I went to give him another agitated direction, I noticed his face. Beyond his eye rolling and muttering under his breath there was something else. He wasn't sullen, he was sad ; though it would have been hard to tell the two apart if I hadn't been looking closely.

I took a deep breath and with enormous effort swallowed my frustration and anger. Instead of telling him to hurry up, I went over to him and sat quietly. I placed my hand on his back and gave it a gentle rub. As we sat together in this moment, I thought about his day and backtracked to when his mood had changed. He had been happy and enjoying time with a friend yet had come home unexpectedly and was quiet, and not just because we were going shopping. As I gently reflected back to him that I had noticed he had come home from his friends place a little quiet and asked if something had happened , he turned to me with teary eyes and told me of an argument they had had which had upset him deeply. We talked it through and though we didn't come up with any obvious ways to solve the problem with his friend, his mood shifted a little and he quickly got ready.

In that moment, I had had two choices. I could parent reactively, borne out of frustration and tiredness. I could hurry him along and express irritation that he was taking so long. Or I could go deeper. Instead of talking over him I could position myself alongside him and explore the moment not as an expression of defiance but as an expression of a moment that was too big for him to handle alone. My son needed me to go beyond both my feelings and his behaviour and offer him something more. He needed me in that moment to say 'I am here, I understand what you are feeling and we can survive these feelings, and this moment, together.' He needed me to be bigger, wiser, stronger and calmer. It was a bid for connection.

I am the first parent to say that this is not always easy in the crazy daily grind of life. I know at times I miss these bids for connection because I am distracted, impatient, hurried. Our everyday lives are busy. Too busy. And to be very honest, parenting less reactively and with more thoughtful engagement takes energy. Stepping up to this level of parenting can feel very tiring.

Yet, these holidays have been a wonderful revelation. I realised that the more I reached for my children's hidden emotions, slowed down and offered connection instead of direction, the calmer our home seemed to be. We laughed a lot more. There was much less arguing. My children opened up emotionally in ways that were unexpected and rich. No doubt it won't always be possible to be this intentional, but as we head into another busy school term I hope to hold these two moments in mind and seek out connection.

C Leisa Stathis 2016Leisa is the author of Becoming a Mother, Finch Publishing 2015 available nationally in most good book stores.

During pregnancy, many women find themselves dreaming of those first moments of meeting their baby; the first cuddle, the first breastfeed, time getting to know each other in the first few days in hospital. Very few mothers begin their pregnancy journey envisaging that the early days, weeks or even months of their baby’s life may be spent separated from them in special care.

When this then does occur, many women may find themselves presented with a complex array of emotions and anxieties to process in the early weeks of the baby's new life.

Grappling with anxiety

Within what we hope will be one the most joyful moments of our lives, the early days may be filled with a sudden and unexpected anxiety for the survival of the baby. Babies born prematurely face significant challenges. Many parents describe feeling overwhelmed by the vast amount of medical information they must quickly digest. Beginning the parenting journey in the presence of such profoundly frightening realities places a tremendous strain upon even the most resilient of parents. Many parents of babies who enter special care may suddenly find themselves grappling with an onslaught of new anxieties as they realise the possibility of significant complications facing preterm infants. Likening the journey to an emotional rollercoaster, many new parents find themselves reeling from one hurdle to the next, celebrating the overcoming of one difficulty only for another to take its place.

Grief and loss

Alongside this pervasive anxiety, there may be profound and unspoken experiences of sadness and loss. Often through pregnancy we carry fantasies and dreams of what the first meeting, the first cuddle, the early days and even the early months with our baby will be like. Throughout pregnancy, these early moments may have been the most tangible images a new mother has held onto. Rarely do we as mothers imagine that the first cuddle might not happen for hours or even days and that when it does occur, our lovely baby will have wires attached.

For most women whose children are in special care, their stay in hospital is limited generally to only a few days. The experience of leaving the hospital, often with arms full of flowers and gifts but no baby is for many women a terribly sad event. Going home to an empty house, whilst knowing your baby is separated from you many kilometres away in hospital can leave countless mothers with complex feelings of grief, numbness and exhaustion. Ahead lays a road of weeks or even months of twice daily hospital visits and the logistical nightmare of expressing breast milk, being present for feed times and procedures and often juggling the needs for time and attention of other children. Logistics aside, the trauma of being kept physically separated when every part of you longs to hold your baby close can take a huge toll upon mothers whose early post birth fantasies never included being kept apart.

The impact upon early bonding and attachment

For some women, caring for a baby whilst they are in special care may present additional challenges to the development of the early 'in love' feelings they imagined they would feel. Feelings of emotional detachment from the baby, numbness, a deep sadness and a sense of powerlessness are all commonly experienced by women whose babies enter special care. If left unrecognised these feelings may impact upon bonding and the development of an emotional attachment.

Thankfully most special care units, being aware of this, have specific attachment focused practices which encourage bonding. Facilitating opportunities for skin to skin contact, encouraging mothers to express breast milk and allowing mothers to have as much involvement as possible in the daily care of their babies are all practices which positively impact upon a mother and baby’s developing bond. Given the physical separation and sense of alienation that many women feel whilst their babies are in special care, these simple practices can have a significant and very positive impact upon not only the mother’s emotional adjustment, but also to the process of bonding and attachment.

Special care may not have been an anticipated experience, yet by no means is it an automatic challenge to bonding.

For many mothers, the bond is simply stronger.

Borne out of the early weeks of helplessness and shock, a fierce feeling of protectiveness emerges. Ever mindful of their baby’s early fragile start, many mothers may experience a heightened sense of closeness and attunement with their little one; a feeling which often remains for the rest of their child’s life.

Little things which help with bonding and attachment

Special care often leads to special bonding. If your baby has entered special care, the following may help to grow the love between you and your baby

Hold your baby as much as you can. For some, this may be in the form of ‘kangaroo care’ or providing the baby with skin-to-skin contact eg tucked in against your chest where the baby can hear your heartbeat. If this is impossible due to wires and various other medical equipment, simply stroking your baby or holding their finger can do so much to develop the bond between you.

Talk to your baby as much as you can. The most familiar sound to your baby will be the sound of your voice, the same one it heard throughout pregnancy. Talking lovingly and soothingly will both calm your baby and provide a sense of familiarity in the face of the foreign environment of the SCU.

Do as much as you can for your baby. Changing nappies, assisting with feeds or being there when routine procedures are conducted will strengthen the bond of familiarity between you and connect with your new role as his or her mother. If staff at the SCU haven’t encouraged you to do this, ask.

Little things do count. As soon as possible dress him or her in special clothing from home. Put on the special hat to keep him warm. Take lots of photos of him and keep them with you at all times. Put photos of yourself up in his humidicrib if possible. Ask staff if you can place a small item or your clothing (with your scent) or a breastpad with your milk on it next to him.

If possible, attempt to breastfeed your baby or to express breastmilk. Many mothers report that in the face of so much helplessness and loss of control, this was the most tangible thing they could offer their child in their fight to become stronger.

On the flipside, if for whatever reason breastfeeding isn’t happening and your supply is low when you express, don’t overwhelm yourself with guilt or recriminations. Even women (like myself) who have babies under the most perfect conditions struggle to breastfeed, let alone women who are under the enormous physical and emotional stress of having a child in care.

Try to have as much of a voice in your child’s care as possible. Ask lots of questions about how he is doing, clarify what you don’t understand and ask repeatedly to be allowed as much physical contact as is possible. Most SCU staff will be very sensitive to this and will be only too happy to give you as much information as you can. If you are unlucky enough to strike an unhelpful midwife or nurse, ask to be reallocated or find another nurse who seems more sensitive.

Finally, as much as you can, enlist the help of those around you to enable you to spend time with your baby whilst they are in care. Accept all offers of meals, washing and transport and surround yourself with kind, helpful and emotionally containing friends and family. If your kind yet interfering aunt longs to share with you stories of other women’s horrendous special care experiences, this may be the time to let the answering machine pick up. Choose where you want your energy to go to – to you, your baby and your growing relationship.

Leisa Stathis is the author of Becoming a Mother, Finch Publishing, 2015. Available in most bookstores and as an ebook.

​Since you brought me into the world a few weeks ago, both of our lives have been completely turned upside down. There has been so much to learn and sleep has been so scarce. I know how very tired you are and how some days feel exhausting and overwhelming. I wish I had the words to say how deeply grateful I am that you are hanging in there. I wish too, that I could tell you what I need. It would be so much easier if I could talk. One day I will be able to use my words to tell you how I feel. While we wait for those days, though, maybe this letter will help you understand me and how I feel about you.

Firstly, my body clock is all over the place and I don't know how to get myself to sleep. I need a little help. Some days I'm just so darn tired but its hard for me to shut my mind down. Do you ever feel so tired that all you can do is cry? That's me too. I wish I had the words to tell you how big the world is and what I need, but all I can do at the moment is cry. I know you worry that you don't always know what to do to help me stop crying but when I see you trying to work it out and thinking about me and what I need, my heart fills with love for you. When I cry, it draws you closer to me and the feeling of being in your arms makes everything around me feel safer. I know it might not feel like it right now but, I promise you, the crying won't last forever. In a few weeks I'll be able to move my facial muscles and smile at you. I can't wait to see the look on your face when I do. It's my way of saying I love you.

Everything around me is so new, different and also exciting. Actually, some days it's really overwhelming. I'm still getting used to all these new sounds; the feel of sunlight on my skin, and the heaviness of being outside of your warm body. Yesterday a breeze blew across my face and it was such a strange sensation all I could think to do was cry. It kind of freaked me out. And don't get me started on this whole nappy situation.

The only thing familiar to me is you. I listened to you when I was growing in your tummy, your voice is more familiar to me than my own heart beat. Yesterday you sang to me and oh, the sweet sound of your voice made something in my spirit soften. I watched your lips so closely as you made those sounds. Your eyes met mine and when you smiled at me I longed to smile back and tell you how much I love you. I think you need to know that. I promise those days will be soon, Mummy, soon.

While I think of it, thank you so much for trying to feed me. It's quite tricky this breastfeeding business isn't it? I really appreciate it that you keep trying. I think we will get there eventually. If it doesn't work out though, and you need to feed me another way, I want you to know that that's ok. I just really love being in your arms when you're feeding me and the special time we have together is what I will remember. The way you feed me is really not going to be that important in the long run.

Mummy, I know it's hard right now. We've really only just met and there's so much to work out about each other. I heard you crying today and I felt so sad. I don't want you to feel bad and feel like you're no good at this. You're already sogood at this, you just don't know it yet. You need to trust yourself more and not worry about what everyone else is doing or what the books say. The day you brought me into the world was one of the most special days of my life. I probably won't remember it by the time I can talk but I know in my heart it was the beginning of our relationship. The beginning of us. It was the day I fell head-over-heels in love with you.

Because I do love you Mum, with every part of my being. You are my whole world, my universe, my everything. One day I will be able to tell you, but for now I hope this letter is enough.

The Christmas season is often heralded as the 'most magical time of the year'. There are presents to be given and received, work functions to be attended and a gourmet feast to be consumed on the day, which for some, is the highlight of the year. For many others, however, Christmas is a time which is approached with dread. It is a time filled with tensions, of unmet expectations and time spent with people we would rather not be with. The day can feel lonely. This may be particularly so if we are battling with anxiety or depression. When our days are spent managing these two complex diagnosis, any day can feel like an uphill battle. Yet, Christmas Day somehow has the ability to hit harder than most and for many of the people I see in therapy, it is a day which requires some forethought and careful navigation to get through this day unscathed.

If anxiety or depression are a current part of our daily landscape, how do we do this? I've been thinking about this a lot lately and have found myself discussing this in session with many patients as we get closer to the day. Here are the words of wisdom I both offer, and have received , from the many patients I am journeying with at the moment.

1) Place self care on your to do list. There are so many tasks associated with Christmas, each of which can be very demanding and draining of our emotional and physical energy stores. Self care, whatever that means to you, needs to be on your to do list.

2) Limit activities or functions that drain you. Anxiety and depression can be very exhausting and sometimes the thought of attending a long night of socialising can be overwhelming when we are struggling to get out of bed every day. Decide in advance what you feel capable of managing and give yourself permission to say no to those activities that fill you with dread. Perhaps you will feel less overwhelmed if you decide to go to an outing for 45 minutes rather than thinking you need to go for the whole night. Let people know in advance that you can't stay as you have another commitment. You do have another commitment - with yourself.

3) Have an 'evacuation plan' organised in advance. I'm not talking about escaping floods or fire, but rather if on Christmas day it all feels like too much, plan in advance how you will manage your escape and follow through with that if it all feels too much. Knowing in advance that leaving early is an option can sometimes help the day seem manageable.

4) Be prepared for difficult conversations and interactions. Lets face it, on Christmas Day we often find ourselves having to spend time with people we rarely see or those we wish we didn't. It's very important to be self protective and in advance, practice ways that you can manage those interactions and exit conversations gracefully.

5) Create your own rituals for Christmas day. If your experience of Christmas day has been one of stress and tension in childhood, adulthood offers a chance to create your own rituals. If you were forced to endure a ten hour feast with dysfunctional relatives in childhood, Christmas as an adult offers you the chance to recreate the day in a way that is not only less stressful but also more meaningful to you. It might be that catching up for a one hour coffee with a few treasured relatives or friends is all that you can manage this year....and thats ok.

6) Don't forget to practice your healthy coping behaviours. A big part of managing depression is a commitment to do simple tasks of daily living. Get out of bed at the same time, have a shower straight away, put on some nice clothes, eat breakfast, sit in the sunshine, go for a walk, watch something you enjoy on Tv, call a friend, read a book, get to sleep at a reasonable time. Such simple things really do help with depression. It can be tempting to spend Christmas Day in bed, feeling overwhelmed, but this may be the very worst thing you can do. Often the best, and most simple antidote to a crash in mood is to get moving and do something. Anything. It doesn't matter what. Engaging in purposeful activity can push a depressed or anxious mood back ever so slightly to make it more manageable.

7) Let the emotions pass. Emotions often come in waves. Anxiety starts to build, or a wave of sadness hits... and these feelings can feel both completely overwhelming and also endless. Yet, often if we have the willingness to just let them be there we find that within moments their intensity reduces even slightly. Imagine being on the ocean and riding out the roll of the waves on a surfboard. It is the same with emotions. The tension builds but eventually we get to the other side.

8) Do things to improve the moment. As you wait for these emotion waves to pass, commit to doing something that makes the moment better. Have a shower, watch something nice on Tv, make a cake, have a cup of soothing tea. Research tells us that these simple actions can be helpful..

9) Be aware of your thinking - if negative self talk is familiar, it may be even more so during this time when our minds can conjure up a thousand thoughts which make us either feel anxious, overwhelmed or deeply sad. The thought 'I can't cope with all of this' will endeavour to make you feel just that. The thought 'It's just one day. I can do some nice things for myself and I can cope better that I think I can' may, in turn, make you feel just that.

10) Remember, this day shall pass. It is one day. Plan something on the day to look forward to beyond all of the things that create tension and stress. A nice glass of wine at the end of the day. Permission to have a nap in the afternoon or to spend the night reading a good book.

​Whatever it takes to make this day less onerous in your mind, choose that path.

So many mothers I know, myself included, have at some point in the parenting journey felt enormous pressure to create a childhood for their child which is wonderful. Amazing. Filled with experiences and opportunities that we ourselves never had. To make every parenting moment count towards a better future than we glimpsed for ourselves. As we struggle with this subtle and not so subtle pressure we find ourselves enrolling our children in various extracurricular activities, planning holidays that will provide wonderful memories and stressing that somehow through it all, it is not enough. Our children need to do more. We need to do more.

Perhaps this is felt most strongly around 'events' such as birthdays, Christmases and the like. Such days can create a lot of tension and stress as parents attempt to make these days perfect, to get the 'right' presents and to make sure that our child feels the day was memorable.

Yet, often Christmas day is a day which is imbued with tensions. In the lead up, parents can find themselves feeling frazzled and exhausted as they attempt to navigate the complex demands of making Christmas special whilst juggling their own burdens of budgeting for the day, work, maintaining a home, getting dinner on the table and all the thousands of other tasks associated with being a parent, wife, colleague, daughter, friend. The day itself often involves being with difficult family members, feeling exhausted by the demands of catering and the inevitable moment of tears when the 'must have' $50 piece of plastic breaks on the second go.

And yet, I wonder what are the hidden cost of this desire to create not only the perfect Christmas day, but the perfect life? Whilst there are the obvious financial costs - and no, you will not be getting a Mac Book pro - and time commitments, I wonder about the unspoken effects of children having every need met and anticipated. Of less time to just be with us as parents? And also of having fewer experiences of loss and disappointment?

Like every parent I know, I too have found myself at various times caught up in the need to give my children a perfect Christmas. When our own childhood has been one of very few opportunities or has been characterised by experiences which were unhappy or involved multiple losses, it can be easy to both knowingly or unknowingly attempt to create a corrective emotional experience by giving our child that which we did not have. Whilst this can be a very powerful opportunity for healing our own childhood fractures, it may be helpful to step back and see where this need to give to our children has become out of balance and where unknowingly we are depriving them of important childhood developmental milestones and opportunities to build resilience through not having every need met. It can also be helpful to recognise that meeting every need is not necessary for our children's happiness and wellbeing. Happiness may be found briefly in the new toy, but has a lifelong legacy when found in shared experiences and connectedness.

Recently I was reminded that our children don't need perfect experiences, every opportunity or thousands of 'moments' to thrive.

We recently went on an overseas holiday. After much saving and planning, we embarked on the 'trip of a lifetime' which would provide amazing wildlife encounters and learning opportunities. We would create amazing lifelong memories. Whilst there were the obvious holiday tensions and stresses, it was indeed wonderful. Many months later as we recalled the trip and our favourite memory my son talked about the flight. Puzzled that he hadn't chosen the sweeping scenery, the long hike to a glacier or the encounter with a moose, I asked him why that was his favourite.

He said ' Because we did that word search together....and there was cheesecake.'

The funny thing is that we could have done that word search anywhere. We could have eaten cheesecake on any other day we chose. The only difference was that I was fully present, without a thousand things to do on my to-do list or feeling frazzled as we raced to get to swim training.

If this Christmas season you find yourself feeling stressed or worried that you haven't done enough to create a perfect day...take the pressure off. Remember that at the end of the day, what our child needs more than any other bright , shiny toy or baked turkey extravaganza is us. Simply us. Perhaps a shared moment on the floor playing a puzzle. A kick of the soccer ball in the park. A shared joke over the Christmas lunch , whatever that may be. Little rituals that signify closeness and belonging. Our children remember the little things and it is these, not the bright, shiny expensive piece of plastic, that they will remember when they are telling their own children about how they shared Christmas with their parents.

The birth process is such an unpredictable event. We may have dreams and carry hopes and expectations for the way we envisage the birth of our babies to proceed. Birth plans are thought about and written, a spoken wish for how we would like our baby's arrival into the world to occur.

Yet, in reality, so much is outside of our control and often there are at least one or two aspects, which afterwards we may wish were different. For many women, their experience of the birth or the birth environment is so far removed from their initial hopes, it can colour their feelings not only about the means by which their babies arrived into this world but also their growing connection with their babies. Often decisions need to be made quickly to ensure not just the safe arrival of the baby, but also the mother’s wellbeing. Our dreams of a calm, intimate first meeting with our baby can be rapidly replaced with the bright lights of a surgical theatre and being prepped for an emergency caesarean with a cast of thousands. For many women, their experience of a birth that defies their hopes and wishes, can cause tremendous sadness and disappointment regarding their baby’s first moments.

Yet it is not just the pain that comes with lost hopes and dreams that impacts upon women’s emotional adjustment post birth. For some women, their experience of giving birth contains elements which were so traumatising that there are long lasting effects upon not only the mother’s relationship with her baby, but also her mental and physical health and her daily functioning. Feeling out of control and detached from the experience, whilst also experiencing intrusive medical interventions can leave many new mothers with very painful and raw feelings of grief and even shock.

Birth trauma may result when a woman’s experience of the birth was one which felt life threatening and within which the mother felt overwhelmed, helpless or some sense of fear. Experiences such as an episiotomy, the use of forceps or suturing without adequate pain relief , or the injuring of the baby during delivery can leave the new mother with intrusive feelings and imagery long after the birth. Many other mother’s report trauma following situations such as an emergency caesarean section where there was a subsequent loss of control over the experience. The delivery may have felt frightening and the experience of feeling vulnerable and exposed can leave the new mother with feelings of sadness and panic. Whilst it is hard to know the exact number of women who experience birth trauma, it has become increasingly recognised as a common experience for many women and one which requires substantial support.

The effects of trauma after childbirth are very real and may be experienced as flashbacks of the birth, nightmares and panic attacks. Memories of the event may trigger anxious feelings and may leave the new mother feeling overwhelmed and fragile. There may be a need to talk constantly about the birth as they attempt to make sense of their experience and release the fear and hurt that linger afterwards. For others there may be a complete avoidance of talking about it. Anything that reminds them of the birth is too painful. Detaching from the experience, as well as the baby may be the only way to keep these uncomfortable memories and feelings at bay.

If this has been our story, how do we heal? Women who have had this experience need a space to share their experience. Not once, or twice but as often as they feel the need to tell it. They need to allow themselves to grieve and process the event and their loss of expectations. They need a safe place and time to separate their feelings about the birth from their feelings towards their baby. An untold story of sadness, grief and guilt can do so much damage to a new mother’s fledgling feelings towards not only her baby, but her sense of self as a mother and her confidence to enter this journey. My sense is that it is incredibly important that those feelings be validated and heard. It is only through this validation that those feelings can lose their power and room for positive feelings towards the baby can grow.

And yet, we must also remember that our birth story is not the whole story.

Not the only story.

It is just one moment in what will be a lifetime of moments that we share with our baby. What matters is not the way our child came into this world but that we release any shame, guilt, and sadness regarding what did or did not happen, in whatever way we can. We owe it to ourselves and to our babies to do that.

Before a baby is born, most first time mothers-to-be spend time dreaming about what it will be like to share their days with their baby. We imagine cute moments with our little one, the first smile, cuddles on the couch and the heavenly feeling of watching our baby take his first steps. Rarely do we imagine the reality of having a baby that cries. And cries. And cries.

Before my daughter was born, I knew theoretically that there would be times my baby would cry. I never imagined that there would be times when she would cry for up to six hours a day. That every cry would tear a little hole in my heart as I struggled to use every soothing strategy I could think of, seemingly to no avail. Her cries filled the walls of our tiny apartment, her desperate wails were a sound that haunted my dreams. As I sat on the couch, shushing and rocking, feeding and patting her back, every minute felt like an hour. It seemed there would be no end to the tears, hers and mine and those dreamlike moments I had envisaged pre-baby would always be elusive.

The loneliest road...

For the parents of a sensitive, fussy or crying baby , the early months can be a bewildering, exhaustive experience . The experience of parenting a baby who cries a lot is one which is lonely and has the capacity to fill the new mother with a deep sense of shame and insecurity. A feeling of hopelessness can colour each day. Intellectually you may know that other babies cry, but the sound of your own baby crying, for long periods may fill the new mother with such feelings of shame and profound inadequacy. For many women the experience of a baby that cries constantly is one of incredible isolation. Within the endless question ‘ Is she a good baby? ’ we may feel there is little space to say ’No, she cries all the time and I don’t know what to do’, without feeling somehow culpable, as if we are doing something terribly wrong. When asked 'Is she a good baby?’ many of us secretly hear 'And are you a good mother?’ The endless crying of our baby in our own minds seems definitively to state ‘No I am not.’

Why do babies cry?

​All babies cry. Some babies cry more than others. A baby cries for a multitude of reasons. Being hungry, tired, overstimulated, a wet nappy, or a painful bout of wind may all lead to bouts of crying in a baby. Some babies temperamentally are more sensitive and easily overwhelmed by the newness of the world around them. A baby may also be startled by a loud noise, , annoyed by the scratchy material of their jumpsuit, feel a little bored or lonely. And reflux...awful reflux. In the absence of any language of words that a baby can use to communicate a need, crying remains one of the most effective ways a baby has of sharing their needs and seeking connection from the one they trust to meet them...their mother. As we struggle in the early days to understand our baby and decipher their needs, the experience of having a baby that is inclined to cry constantly can feel overwhelming. Whilst intellectually we may know that in the early days, learning our babies language of tears takes time to interpret, it may feel to many new mothers that these days will never end, they will never emerge from the lonely days of crying.

But it gets better...

For the mother of a sensitive, 'fussy' baby who cries constantly, it may be heartening to know that it gets better. Most babies settle down by the end of the third month and prolonged bouts of crying are less frequent. The incredible learning curve of the early months feels a little less steep. We can recognise our baby's cues better, and perhaps too, our baby has developed some capacity to tolerate the confusing and stimulating world around her. Often by the three month mark, routines have found their own rhythm and whatever means we are using to feed our baby has settled down. Its unsurprising that the first three months are often referred to as the fourth trimester. It's a profound time of change not only for the baby, but us as mothers too.

Five things I wish I knew then...

I look back upon those early months with my first born and wish I could reach back in time to the mother self that I was. As I think back to the hours spent alone on the couch, my heart beating faster with every cry, I imagine giving my mother self a gentle look of warmth and understanding. I would tell her it gets better. These are just the early days and they are very hard. But they are not forever. And one day you will look back at these moments with compassion and know you have come along way.

1. Having a baby who cries a lot is incredibly painful and can leave a mother of a newborn feeling anxious. It can be hard to remember that this is not necessarily a reflection of you, your parenting and anything else you are doing. At stated earlier, some babies are just wired to be more sensitive. Or they may have reflux. Or they may be overwhelmed by all the stimuli of the world around them. Offer yourself compassion and remember that you are still getting to know each other.

2. Don’t be misled or confused by advice from those around you who rush to question your milk supply, your settling methods, or your capacity to be a good mother who knows her own baby. You do know your own baby. Every mother will have moments with their baby (or child, or teenager...) when they feel a little bewildered. Our relationships with our children are constantly unfolding, even when they are 35! Often moments of understanding our children and their needs are preceded by feelings of confusion. This too shall pass.

3. If your baby has been crying for a number of hours and you have tried everything, take a break. There were days when I had to force myself to walk away, even just for a few minutes to gather my thoughts and think about what might be happening for my baby. Although everything within me felt dreadful that I was walking away in the face of her primitive distress, I realise now that taking a break might be just what is needed to think about your baby more clearly and also what your baby needs to settle . I realise now that an ordinary mother doesn't always know what to do, but her willingness and capacity to reflect on her baby's crying is more important than any specific settling technique.

4. Be gentle with yourself. Talk yourself through it. Think of anything that you could do that would ‘improve the moment’ and reduce the tension of the day . Get a cup of tea, rub on some nice hand cream, go for a walk, call a friend, eat chocolate, watch something uplifting on tv.

5. Ask for support and accept it when it is offered. A crying baby is physically and emotionally exhausting. You need to replenish your energy in whatever way you can so that you can continue to lovingly respond when he does cry. I wish I’d asked for more help. I wish I'd brought my feelings of being overwhelmed into the light. It would have made the early days less lonely and the road a little less long.

In recent times, a growing number of parents have used a new method of disciplining their child which is generating a lot of conversation and debate. It is the trend towards online shaming.

Online shaming as a form of discipline can take many forms and recent examples to be found on Youtube and other social media involve children being forced to wear signs with derogatory messages on them, public pledges from children regarding their poor behaviour and even online videos of children having their heads shaved, their grades posted online or being forced to participate in physical challenges as punishment. In a recent well known case in the United States, a 12 year old girl committed suicide after her father posted a shaming video of her online following her misuse of social media. This resulted in considerable social outcry and anger towards the father who was distraught, never having imagined that his actions could have resulted in the loss of his daughter.

Such a painful outcome speaks to the terrible consequences of online shaming; the severing of parent - child trust that may take years to repair. It also speaks, I feel, to a parent's place of desperation. To a feeling of parental hopelessness and loss of control. To a profound disconnection between parent and child that such an action would be considered by a parent the only means left to punish a child.

In the face of this tragedy, the question many parents are asking 'but what else is there to be done?' What is the best way to discipline your child when all else has seemingly failed? There are probably a thousand different behaviour management techniques and I have no intention of evaluating them here. For within each approach, there are elements that may or may not be helpful and what may work with your child today, may not work so well tomorrow. Such is the nature of parenting.

I have been reflecting lately however, not so much on techniques of discipline but upon techniques of connection. How do we maintain connection with our children so that we never get to such a desperate place where online shaming seems like the only way to regain control? Here are a few of my thoughts that I explore with the parents that come and see me in therapy and that I try to do myself as a parent.

1. Make connection an everyday part of your relationship with your child from the get go. Every day there needs to be at least one conversation where we simply listen to our child and explore what it is like to live in their world. Make conversation a part of family life from the moment they can talk. Recognise that the deepest conversations we may ever have with our kids, particularly once they are eye rolling teenagers, are often when we are engaged in another activity such as driving to soccer practice or hanging out the washing.

2. The words we use matter - as our children get older it becomes important to be mindful of our ways of communicating and use words that open up communication, rather than shut it down. Teenagers can be incredibly sensitive to perceived parental judgement. Being curious and asking lots of questions that help us to understand their world can be a great way to build connection. If you feel any desire within yourself to say 'You shouldn't have ...' , consider replacing it with 'That was a tricky situation....must have been tough to know what to do.'

3. Choose your battles. Some fights simply aren't worth fighting if it means every day is filled with negativity and tension. Find moments of unexpected praise.

4. When the temptation is to pull away, approach. When your child has driven you to the depths of despair and you feel like pulling away, if you can keep yourself calm, try approaching instead. An offered hug, an unexpected moment of kindness when our child is in the middle of out of control emotions can help maintain connection.

5. Reach for the hidden emotion. Beneath our child's expression of rage and frustration are often feelings of hurt, sadness, anxiety, bewilderment and self doubt. Being a kid is hard. There are confusing issues of social belonging, identity and self worth to work through. These are feelings that we as adults struggle with. It may be helpful to remember that our children have less resources to cope with them and need a little help from us to do so.

And remember that children often bring home the emotions that can't be expressed in the wider world. When the world is a confusing place, home is often the only place to vent the emotions, the safest place to fall. Maintaining connection, whilst lovingly setting limits, might help us keep it that way.

In the first few days and weeks of motherhood, learning the language of our newborn baby can seem insurmountable as we attempt to decode the mysterious cues and signs our babies give us about their needs. In the absence of any words which they could actually use to tell us what their needs are, the early weeks for many mothers are a confusing time as we attempt to interpret our child's secret language. In amidst our confusion there may be a few tears, our babies and our own, as we navigate this complex journey.

And yet, as the days and weeks go on, we get better at it. With time we come to understand their cues and the little signs they give us that tell us when they are hungry, when they are tired, when they are overstimulated and need a break or when they need a nappy change. Much as two new dance partners must learn each other's steps, with time the dance flows more easily. We come to anticipate each other's moves and eventually there is less stepping on toes!

This beautiful and complex interaction can be thought of as 'attunement' ; a concept which is central to our understanding of how mother's build healthy bonds with their babies. It can be defined as the sensitivity a mother displays in reading her babies cues and meeting his or her needs. Through a wide variety of signals our babies let us know what their needs are at any given time. A baby can cry, rub his eyes, clench his fists, kick his legs, turn his head away, open his mouth, scrunch his legs up, make a gurgling sound, grimace. Each of these little behaviours are our babies way of communicating a need. The sensitive mother attunes to these signs. She reads her baby's cues and thinks about what might be happening for her baby. She then goes on to meet that need as best she can e.g. with a feed, soothing sounds, helping the baby to sleep, removing them from stimulation. Through this dance something fundamentally important happens. Trust between a mother and baby grows and a baby comes to see that their Mum or Dad is someone who can meet their needs, can help them survive their feelings and can offer thoughtfulness in relation to them.

In the early days of being a new parent, understandably this dance may be a little awkward. When faced with the multitude of signs given to us by our baby, we may feel a little bewildered as we attempt to decode our baby's secret language. To the relief of parents, however, researchers tell us that we don't need to offer perfect attunement 100% of the time. The good enough parent doesn't always read her child's secret language first time around. We misread the cue, we misinterpret the feeling , we feel out of step...and yet if we can reflect on this and meet the need eventually we offer our babies something very powerful; reparation.

The delicate dance of attunement is a dance that continues for the rest of our lives as we live in relationship with our children. Whether our child is 3 months old, 3 years old or hitting the treacherous straits of puberty, our ability to read our child's cues, make sense of their emotions and needs and respond with loving kindness is one which fundamentally underpins connection to our children.

When I was in the trenches of parenting my own newborns I took this dance for granted. In the midst of feeds, nappies, sleeps, playing, crying etc etc I did it with little forethought. Sometimes it was a bit tedious. Sometimes I felt it was a bit hard. Yet I now see it for the exquisite relationship dance that it is. I find myself wanting to rush up to every new mother I see and say 'Wow, you're doing something so amazing! You are amazing!' For the delicate dance of attunement leaves a lifelong legacy, a blueprint for all future relationships that contains within it ideas about love, trust and connection.

For all the moms out there changing nappies, offering a feed, picking up on the cues that your baby is tired and needs a sleep - I think you're doing something pretty cool. For the mother's who are soothing a skinned knee or picking up that your child's had a rough day at school - I think you're doing something remarkable. For all of those parent's who are navigating adolescence with mindful thoughtfulness, attempting to offer wisdom and listen with an open heart - I think you're inspiring.

I saw these beautiful words today and something inside of me shifted. I've been thinking lately about the tremendous pressure we put upon ourselves as parents ; to not mess up, to give our children every opportunity we never had, to always know what to do, to raise children who will become amazing adults. Every parent I know, in various ways, is placing this pressure upon themselves.

And yet, this quote resonated deeply within me because I realised something I had never thought about before. In placing this pressure upon myself I'm placing tremendous pressure upon my child and I'm missing what should be so obvious. They already are enough. They are already good kids. This doesn't mean they won't stuff up, make bad choices, have the occasional (or the frequent! ) meltdown, or use imperfect manners. Of course they will. They might never be good at Maths , they might be shy and not good at talking with adults yet, or they not be great at following instructions. It's okay - they are a work in progress. Already there is so much good within them.

In this world where we seem to be seeking the need to do everything perfectly and we don't allow ourselves, or our children, to be average - I want to slow down. I want to look at my children today with new eyes and see them for who they are, not the sum of my expectations of how they should be. They are already enough.

'Don't let yourself become so concerned with raising a good kid that you forget you already have one.' Beautiful.

Author

Leisa Stathis is an individual, child and family therapist who currently is in private practice. She is also a mother. A very real, very ordinary mother trying to do something extra-ordinary ; be good enough. Becoming a Mother is her journey, as much as it is anyone else's. A journey of learning to sitting with the uncertainty that parenting brings, of letting love steal its way into her heart and of being transformed into a new identity. You will find no experts here, just real mothers facing the everyday challenges of parenting with thoughtfulness and intention.

You can also follow Leisa on Facebook at Becoming a Mother, on Twitter @LeisaStathis and at Bloglovin'